


Patience

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-11
Updated: 2010-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eustace is trying Caspian's patience</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bedlamsbard for the [2010 Narnia Fic Exchange](http://community.livejournal.com/narniaexchange/). Betaed by animus_wyrmis.
> 
> Original Prompt:  
> What I want: Caspian and Eustace gen during Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  
> Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: "As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport." (William Shakespeare)  
> What I definitely don't want in my fic: No ships, please. Um, aside from the Dawn Treader, that is.

Caspian slammed the cabin door so hard it rattled the frame. He leaned against it and then looked round the tiny room with a sigh. In his anger and exhaustion he had forgotten that this was no longer his cabin. He had no refuge on this ship. He was thrilled Edmund and Lucy were back in Narnia, and sleeping below decks was no hardship, but if they had to have Eustace on board he would have much preferred to have his own space where he could gather his thoughts and consider kingly matters, and possibly hide until Eustace went away.

He had been amused at first. Eustace talked nonsense and had strange ideas and Caspian marvelled at the fact such a person could in any way be related to the Pevensies. But the joke had soon worn thin and Caspian now spent a worrying amount of time wondering if Edmund and Lucy would mind terribly if he let Reepicheep kill their cousin. He suspected Edmund wouldn’t. There had been so many opportunities to be rid of him: drowned on their arrival in Narnia, sold into slavery in the Lone Islands, swept overboard during the storm. And yet Eustace seemed to have the knack of surviving, blustering on through events that could fell many a greater man. Aslan, apparently, had a strange sense of humour.

There was a knock at the door that he almost ignored but he knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Besides, it was not his cabin anymore and Lucy would want it back at some point. He turned and opened the door and, sure enough, there was Lucy, accompanied by Edmund. “You should just ignore him, you know,” Lucy said by way of greeting, stepping past him and sitting on the bench. “It’s the only way.”

“It’s not that easy. He seems to think he’s the only one suffering. Everyone’s tired, everyone’s thirsty, everyone’s worried we’re not going to find land before the water runs out. But Eustace’s troubles are greater than anyone else’s. And of course he knows best, despite the fact that he doesn’t actually seem to know anything at all. Of all the useless wastes of—” He recollected who he was talking to and pulled himself together. “I’m sorry. I should not speak so about your cousin.”

Lucy smiled. “That’s all right.” Her smile grew mischievous. “You should hear what Edmund has to say about your relatives.”

Caspian did not have to force the smile that sprang to his lips. “I would probably agree with most of it,” he said. Lucy laughed. Edmund grinned tiredly at him from his seat beside Lucy.

“She’s right, you know. Ignoring him really is the best course of action.” Caspian raised his eyebrows at this. “I know, I know. I’m a fine one to talk.”

“You’re worse at ignoring him than I am,” Caspian said with a laugh.

“I think we should be more patient with him,” Lucy said. “Be a bit nicer. It’s not his fault he was brought up with such odd ideas.”

“Well, Edmund could hardly have less patience with him,” Caspian said, ignoring the glare Edmund sent his way.

“And Lucy could hardly have more,” Edmund said. “All right,” he added quickly, as Lucy seemed to be working herself up into a full-blown lecture. “We’ll be nice to him by ignoring him, how about that?” Caspian laughed as Lucy cast a mock-glare at her brother. Despite their unexpected companion, it really was good to have them back. It made their current problems that much easier to bear.

“But what are we to do with him?” said Caspian. “We can’t carry on like this indefinitely. I’ll have a mutiny on my hands soon. If they had anywhere to go, I’m sure half the crew would have left already.”

Edmund shook his head. “I’d have thought the journey would have knocked the edges off him, you know, toughened him up a bit. But it seems to have made him worse.” They both looked expectantly at Lucy. She shrugged.

“Sorry. I don’t know what to do except try to be more understanding with him and hope that eventually he sees that we’re not the villains. Maybe then he’ll settle down a little and let us help him.”

Caspian and Edmund exchanged glances. Edmund looked as optimistic about this plan as Caspian felt.

*****

Caspian squeezed his eyes shut and pinched himself, hoping it was just another of the strange dreams he had been having lately. The ruckus continued. Opening his eyes, he saw Edmund was already on his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. Caspian swung his legs out of his hammock. They felt like lead weights. He got out of the hammock mostly by falling; his head felt like it was stuffed with wool and his eyes struggled to focus. He did not know how much sleep he had had recently, but he knew it was not nearly enough. He blinked a couple of times and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “Sounds like Reepicheep,” Edmund said, his voice hoarse. Caspian nodded. His gaze fell on Eustace’s empty bunk with absolutely no surprise whatsoever.

“We should just pitch them both overboard,” he said, every word rasping against his parched throat. Edmund nodded in agreement and together they left the cabin to see what this latest commotion was about.

Reepicheep was standing on top of the water cask with his sword drawn, looking as fierce and combative as Caspian had ever seen him. He talked continually and loudly but Caspian could not tell what he was saying over the noise of Eustace protesting his innocence and the crew demanding to know why they had been woken from their tenuous sleep. It was immediately clear what had happened but before Caspian could say anything Drinian came down through the hatch.

“Silence,” he bellowed in a voice that even Eustace would not argue with. The crew quietened down instantly. “What is going on here?”

“I caught this, this…person,” Reepicheep said, catching sight of Edmund at the last minute, “stealing water from the cask.” There was instant uproar as the crew told Eustace as one exactly what they thought of him.

“Enough,” said Caspian, setting his throat on fire. Silence reigned once more. “Well?” he said to Eustace.

“I, I was doing no such thing,” spluttered Eustace, the very picture of guilt. “I was just going out onto the deck for a walk.” This was greeted by mutters from the crew, though under Drinian’s stern gaze they dared not create another row.

“Why do you have a cup in your hand then?” said Reepicheep.

Eustace turned bright red. “If it comes to that, what are you doing skulking round the water cask?”

“I am doing my bit, as you would be advised to do. I am no use on deck so I stand guard over the water cask at night so one more man may get some sleep.” There were murmurs and nods of approval from the crew. “Now apologise to everyone on this ship,” Reepicheep said, brandishing his sword just under Eustace’s chin. Eustace looked over at Caspian and Edmund.

“Aren’t you going to call this little brute off?”

“You do owe everyone an apology,” Edmund said.

“So everyone just believes the talking mouse? Just like that?”

Caspian rounded on Eustace. “Reepicheep is a knight of Narnia and has proven himself repeatedly to be a loyal and trustworthy subject. You, on the other hand, have proven yourself to be nothing but a lazy little sneak.” He would have continued but he suddenly remembered where they were. This was no conversation to be having in front of the crew. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lucy standing on the steps leading down from the deck, looking disappointed. He looked Eustace in the eye. Eustace flushed and looked away. “Apologise, please.” Eustace looked mutinous. “Apologise, now.” Eustace glared at him then turned round and faced the general direction of the crew.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking up from the floor. It was the least gracious apology Caspian had ever heard. But it was the best they were going to get.

“Anyone found stealing water in future will get two dozen,” he said, and without waiting to see the reaction to this pronouncement stalked back into the cabin and threw himself into his hammock.

He lay there seething quietly, trying to ignore the dryness of his mouth and the rawness of his throat. Everybody else felt just as bad, so why did Eustace think he had a right to special treatment? Slowly he calmed down, and when he did Caspian began to feel a little foolish. He should not have lost his temper like that, and certainly should not have spoken like that in front of everyone. Of course he could not be seen to tolerate such behaviour or they would have men sneaking to the water cask every night, but there were ways of handling such things and Caspian knew that he had handled this badly.

Every person on this ship had endured long journeys or fought hard campaigns. Even Lucy. Eustace had not, and was not used to such hardship. Caspian remembered what Lucy had said about Eustace being raised with odd ideas and thought about the things he had been taught by his nurse and Doctor Cornelius and (though he hated to admit it) even his uncle Miraz. If he had never learned discipline, would he be able to resist helping himself to an extra sip of water? He was honestly not sure of the answer and that was more than a little galling.

The door swung open and, turning his head, Caspian saw that it was Eustace. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Caspian thought his eyes looked swollen and red-rimmed. He opened his mouth to apologise then closed it again. An apology was no good. Eustace would take it to mean that he was sorry for what he had done, and he was not. Only sorry for the way he had done it. Eustace cast a look, presumably a glare, at Caspian’s hammock and then flung himself into his bunk. For several minutes the only sound was the creaking of the ship and the slap of the water against the porthole.

“I feel sorry for you,” Caspian said and then winced. That would not be appreciated at all. “I mean, I know this is hard for you. You’re not used to this. But everyone feels just as feverish as you and we all have to make the best of it. I’m sure we’ll find land soon and we’ll be watered to our hearts’ content and all this will just be a memory. But in the meantime we have to ration the water and no one can have more than his fair share.” There was silence from the bunk; Caspian was certain Eustace was not asleep. He thumped the wall in frustration. He could persuade men into battle against staggering odds and debate with courtiers and treat with ambassadors, but he had no idea how to talk to Eustace. He had never met anyone like him, and he never wished to again. He was no use to anyone; he did no good. Swallowing his pride, he tried once more. “I’m sorry for what I said. I should not have spoken to you like that, especially not in front of everyone.” When there was still no response, Caspian gave up. Edmund was right: no matter how much Lucy wished it, Eustace was never going to change.

*****

Caspian sat outside the cabin he shared with Edmund and Eustace, waiting for Lucy. “You shouldn’t keep giving him your water ration, you know,” he said as she shut the door. She jumped at his voice, but then came to join him on the sack of flour he was using as a seat.

“How did you know?” she said.

“I didn’t for sure, until now. I just suspected. It seemed like something you would do.”

“Don’t tell Edmund. It will only cause another row.”

“You’re assuming Edmund doesn’t already know. And there won’t be another row. If you want to waste your ration on him, there’s nothing we can do to stop you.”

“I don’t need it as much as he does.” Caspian was deeply sceptical about this and it must have shown because Lucy sighed. “I know. That’s probably not true. But I can’t help it. He’s so miserable.”

“So is everyone else. He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“He’s not used to this sort of thing, Caspian. He’s always been given whatever he wanted. He doesn’t know how to deal with suffering.”

“I could accept that if he showed even the slightest inclination to learn. But all he does is lie in his bunk all day feeling sorry for himself.”

A shout from the deck had them both on their feet in an instant. Caspian ran for the hatch, Lucy a step behind him, praying that he wasn’t hallucinating, that he really had heard what he thought he had heard.

“Land, your Majesty,” Drinian greeted him as he mounted the steps. Caspian tore out on to the deck to join the tumult of sailors heading for the starboard rail. And there, far to the south east, was the most wonderful sight Caspian had ever seen. It was indeed land, a mountain by the looks of it. Someone jostled his elbow and he turned to find Edmund staring transfixed at the distant speck.

“It’s a long way off,” Edmund said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes,” Caspian said, grinning in turn and feeling cracks form all along the skin of his lips. “It may take some time to get there. We shouldn’t get too carried away. We need to be sensible about this.” But then Lucy came flying along the deck and threw her arms around Edmund. From then on it was hugs all round and everyone said ‘at last’ and ‘thank the Lion’ and ‘knew we’d be alright’, and nobody at all said ‘what if there’s no water there’ or ‘what if we can’t get ashore’.

It was when the men started talking about extra water rations that Caspian put his foot down. It might take them days to get there; they still needed to be careful. The men went back to their work grumbling but not really complaining. They all knew he was right. Besides, it was much easier working with land in sight than it was with nothing on the horizon but ocean.

“Come on,” said Lucy, tugging on Edmund and Caspian’s sleeves in turn. “Let’s tell Eustace.” Edmund pulled a face but did as he was told. Caspian followed, frowning slightly. Surely Eustace must already know. The noise the crew had made was enough to wake the dead. Was he really still sulking in his bunk?

They made their way down through the hatch and into the cabin. Sure enough, Eustace was lying there, staring at the ceiling. “They’ve sighted land, Eustace,” Lucy said. “To the south east. It’s a long way off but it’s there.”

“How long until we get there?”

“Difficult to say,” Caspian said. “A few days.”

“Before the water runs out?”

“I don’t know.” Damn Eustace and his questions. Damn him, damn him. Why couldn’t he just be happy about it? Why did he have to focus on the bad and ignore everything good that was staring him in the face?

“Well, why don’t you bother me once we’re there. If we haven’t all died of thirst before then.”

Edmund snorted in disgust. “Give it up, Lu. There’s no point.” He walked out, pulling Lucy out with him. Caspian looked at Eustace for a long moment before following them. He had absolutely nothing to say to him.

*****

It was tempting. It was very tempting. It was right _there_. Caspian stood once again at the starboard rail, looking at the island. But instead of being a distant speck on the horizon, it was right in front of him. It was not a welcoming place: its steep, tree-covered hills were largely covered in mist and the beach had more rocks than sand. He still could not wait to go ashore. They had anchored in a wide bay with clear, smooth waters, and the desire to find fresh food and fresh water and just feel his feet on solid ground was nearly overwhelming. But it was getting dark, and they had no idea what they might find. It was best to stay onboard until the morning.

Everyone accepted this quite cheerfully, happy to have fresh fish and an extra water ration and the promise of going ashore in the morning. Everyone, of course, except Eustace.

“How long do you expect me to stay on this beastly boat?”

“One more night. Do you think you can manage that?” Caspian said.

“I am definitely reporting you to the British Consulate, Caspian,” Eustace said. Eustace had yet to be able to explain to Caspian just what in Aslan’s name a British Consulate was. He was increasingly convinced it was something Eustace had just made up.

“Good lord. Surely even you’ve realised there’s not going to be a British Consulate here,” Edmund said, waving his hand in the general direction of the island. Eustace said nothing but folded his arms and looked away, a sure sign that he knew he had said something foolish but was determined to go on like he hadn’t.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just go ashore.”

“Really?” said Caspian. “I thought I explained it quite clearly.”

“But—”

“Look. If you want to swim ashore and sleep on the beach on your own, by all means be my guest.” Caspian said. Eustace didn’t move. “Well?” Eustace cast one last glare at Caspian and Edmund and then turned and stomped off to the hatchway below. Both kings shook their heads and then went to join the exhausted but happy group on the poop deck. Caspian was determined to enjoy himself, knowing that the long awaited respite would be no respite at all. They had hard work ahead of them.

And enjoy himself he did. Occasionally his mind would turn to Eustace; he must be lonely and unhappy down there, listening to the chatter and laughter coming from the deck. Why did he do it to himself? Caspian almost went down to try to persuade him to come out on deck, but he knew it was no use. It would just lead to another argument, and he didn‘t really want him here anyway. If Eustace was determined to make himself unhappy, let him. In the meantime, he would enjoy his fish and his extra water and the company. He could worry about Eustace in the morning. Perhaps when they were all properly watered and rested things would be less fraught, and Eustace easier to deal with.

When the morning came, however, Caspian had bigger things to worry about than Eustace. The _Dawn Treader_ was little more than a wreck. Caspian, Drinian and Rhince, cups of water in hand, surveyed her from the beach while the crew washed themselves in the stream and snoozed under the trees. Her fine paintwork was now uniformly a sort of greyish-green, and there were cracks and holes all over her; the falling mast had done a lot of damage. With most of her mast gone she looked very small indeed, a situation not helped by the fact she was sitting very low in the water. She looked, in fact, very much like the boat Eustace claimed her to be. This thought did nothing to improve Caspian’s mood. He glanced round and soon spotted Eustace, sitting under a large sycamore as though he had earned it and had as much right to take it easy as any of the crew who had almost worked themselves to death. He watched as Lucy approached him, only to be met with, judging from her reaction, his usual rudeness and lack of gratitude.

“I’ve given up telling her not to bother,” Edmund said, appearing beside him with a large pot of water. He poured some into Caspian’s cup and then passed the rest to Drinian and Rhince, who were still studying the ship. “She won’t give up. She’s convinced there’s a decent person in there.”

“I keep thinking she’s right. And every time I do he says something to convince me she’s wrong. If there is a decent person in there, he’s buried pretty deep.” Caspian sipped at his water, forcing himself not to gulp it all down in one go. “I’ve been wondering if Aslan sent him here to teach me patience. If he has, I think I’ve failed.”

Edmund laughed. “I think we all have. Eustace is too hard a lesson for anyone, except maybe Lucy. Aslan might have misjudged that one.”

Caspian started at this and looked at Edmund in surprise, but Edmund had turned to study the ship and did not notice. He considered telling him his other theory, that Eustace was simply a joke at their expense, but he knew little about Edmund’s relationship with Aslan. He had no idea how Edmund would react to the suggestion. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it himself.

He was saved from having to make a decision by the arrival of Lucy. She looked at the ship and sighed. “Oh, dear. She looked so lovely when we sailed from Newhaven.” Caspian nodded sadly. “Don’t worry. Well have her looking as good as new in no time,” Lucy said, just as Edmund turned to Drinian.

“What do you think? A pine for the mast?” Drinian and Rhince both nodded in agreement. Caspian looked around the tree-lined beach. Not a pine in sight.

“We’ll have to organise search parties inland,” he said.

“We should put together a hunting party too,” Lucy said. “There must be some wild animals on this island.”

They were soon absorbed in making plans and it was not long before Eustace was forgotten about entirely.

*****  
“Where’s that blighter Eustace?”

Caspian glanced round at Edmund’s words, hardly distracted from his second helping of roasted goat and his somethingth helping of wine. The words ‘I don’t care’ were on the tip of his tongue but he kept them to himself. He shrugged instead and said, “He can’t have got far”. The bulk of their group was gathered around the fire, but there were people scattered across the beach in ones or twos, and Eustace was no doubt somewhere close by, deliberately depriving himself of good food and good company. Caspian had given up trying to understand why anyone would behave in such a way; Eustace seemed to want to be miserable and Caspian was more than happy to leave him to it.

They were finishing the last of the meal when Edmund asked again. Caspian looked around, properly this time. Eustace was not on the beach. Caspian scanned the tree-line, expecting to see him snoring peacefully in the shade, but there was no sign of him. Caspian sighed, stood up and headed towards where he thought he had seen Eustace last, calling his name. Soon the were all calling for him, making their way across the beach and through the trees at the edge of the forest. There was no response. Caspian kicked at a pebble in frustration. Surely even Eustace had not been foolish enough to just wander away in this unknown place. Caspian blew his horn, startling birds into the air throughout the forest. In the silence after the sound died away they waited for an answering shout, but none came. Caspian’s annoyance began to give way to concern.

“He’s nowhere near or he’d have heard that,” Lucy said, looking worried.

“Confound the fellow,” Edmund said. “What on earth did he want to slink away like this for?”

“But we must do something,” said Lucy. “He may have got lost, or fallen into a hole, or been captured by savages.”

“Or killed by wild beasts,” said Drinian.

“And a good riddance if he has, I say,” muttered Rhince.

“Master Rhince,” said Reepicheep, “you never spoke a word that became you less. The creature is no friend of mine but he is of the Queen’s blood, and while he is one of our fellowship it concerns our honour to find him and to avenge him if he is dead.”

Caspian could have kicked Reepicheep. He was very fond of the mouse, but he had a way of making you feel like the most shameful coward. Glancing around the group, it was clear that Rhince had merely said what many were thinking. “Of course we’ve got to find him (if we can),” Caspian said. “That’s the nuisance of it. It means a search party and endless trouble. Bother Eustace.”

A quick questioning of the crew revealed no-one had seen Eustace since that morning. Caspian offered to lead the search party. Rhince, apparently feeling the effect of Reepicheep’s words, was the first of the men to step forward. Lucy also wanted to come, but Edmund would not let her.

“We can’t all go, Lu. Someone needs to stay and help Drinian organise things.”

“But what if Eustace is hurt?”

“Then we shall bring him straight back and you can cure him here.”

Lucy looked at Caspian in mute appeal, but he was inclined to agree with Edmund. He suspected Lucy did too and it was only concern for her cousin that made her persist. “We need you here,” he said. “And what if Eustace makes his own way back?” Lucy grudgingly agreed.

The party set off, and at first felt quite encouraged; they found Eustace’s trail straight away, his footprints clear in the mud. But they lost it again just as quickly when the ground became covered in leaf litter and there was no mud to be seen. They did their best to find it again but they were all soldiers and sailors, not hunters. Caspian wished they had a faun with them, but they did not do very well on ships and he had not anticipated having to track a member of his own party through the forest. In lieu of any real direction to follow, they tried to cover as much ground as they could, looking for some sign.

The forest was dense and gloomy, and strangely quiet. The woods of Narnia were filled with birdsong and the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, but this place was almost silent. It was not a large wood and it was not long before they emerged on the other side, with no sign of Eustace. They found themselves at the edge of a steep cliff. It dropped away in front of them and to their right; they only way they could go was left. This, of course, meant the only way Eustace could have gone was left. Unless he went down, thought Caspian, feeling slightly nauseous at the drop before his feet. “He may not have come out at this part of the wood at all,” Edmund said hopefully, peering down the cliff. They followed the narrow path, if it could be called that, between the cliff and the trees.

Caspian grew more worried with every step. Guilt gnawed at him. Eustace could have been missing for hours or minutes. Caspian had no idea. If they had started looking for him when they first noticed he was gone instead of dismissing it, perhaps they would have found him straight away. It was one thing to lose men through injury or misadventure; those things were to be expected on such a voyage. It was something else entirely to lose one through carelessness. Would he have been so dismissive of someone’s absence if it had been anyone other than Eustace?

He was interrupted by the arrival of an excitedly chattering Reepicheep, who had run ahead of the main group. In many ways he was a very poor scout as he was as likely to attack anything dangerous as to run back to warn the others about it. However, his height gave him two advantages on a mission such as this: he tended to see anything dangerous before it saw him, and he had a rather different perspective on things, being that much closer to the ground.

The others followed him and quickly found themselves at the foot of a steep grassy slope. At first Caspian could not see what had got Reepicheep so excited, but then he looked closer and saw it: the grass in places was slightly flattened and broken, and here and there clumps had been pulled out, as though someone had used the grass to pull themselves up the slope. They had found Eustace’s trail once more.

Feeling slightly better about things (he had at least not fallen over the cliff), they set off up the slope in pursuit of Eustace. It was a long climb. “Hard to believe,” Edmund said, panting a little, “that Eustace climbed up here. He did little more than climb the stairs at home.”

“Perhaps the journey has knocked some edges off him after all,” Caspian said.

“I’ll knock some edges off him when I get my hands on him,” Edmund muttered. Caspian chuckled but focussed on the climb. The last few days had taken their toll on all of them, and it was a harder struggle than it would otherwise have been.

They arrived, breathless, at the top, and Caspian’s heart sank. Eustace could have gone anywhere from here. The ridge curved around to their right, following the line of a sheer precipice. To their left the ground sloped away as steeply as the path they had just followed. In front of them lay a steeply sided, rock-strewn valley with a lake. You could probably get down it by scrambling from rock to rock, but it would be hard going. The slope to their left might eventually lead down that way. Then again, it might lead you anywhere; you could never tell in these sorts of places. There was neither a footprint nor a scrap of fabric nor anything else to show which direction Eustace had taken. There was a completely flattened area of grass a few feet away that looked as though he had slid back down the slope, but the torn-up state of the grass around it suggested he had climbed up again. Where he had gone next was anyone’s guess.

Working to the theory that Eustace would have taken the easiest path, they walked along the top of the ridge. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him since this morning?” Edmund said quietly to Caspian’s as they made their way along the ridge, careful to stay as close to the valley side as possible and not drift towards the precipice.

“Yes,” said Caspian, quite certain on this point. If he had seen Eustace he would almost certainly have been annoyed by him. His complete absence was what allowed Caspian to put him out if his mind. Edmund nodded, apparently having come to the same conclusion himself.

“We should have noticed,” Edmund said. “We should have realised he wasn’t there.” Caspian was well aware of this. Irritating as Eustace was, he was an unwilling traveller on this journey. Lucy had pointed out several times that he was not used to this sort of life, but Caspian had not understood exactly what that meant. Now he did. It meant he did not know how to look after himself. It meant he did not know simple, basic things like ‘don’t wander off by yourself on a misty, hilly, wooded island when you don’t know what you might find, or what might find you’. It meant he did not really know how dangerous the world was. They had a duty to look after him and they — he — had failed.

“We’ll find him,” was all Caspian said. He did not need to say the rest; Edmund was as aware of it as he. He also did not say ‘hopefully not at the bottom of a ravine’. Edmund was aware of that, too.

A shout from Rhince brought them all up short. He had seen something in the valley. Wondering what could possibly have made Rhince, who was a brave man, turn so pale, Caspian hurried to where he stood. A curve in the ridge revealed what had been hidden before; there, in the bottom of the valley, distant but unmistakeable, was a dragon.

Edmund whistled between his teeth. “Lion’s mane,” he said quietly.

They stood looking at the dragon for a long time, during which it did not move at all. “Is it alive?” Caspian said.

“I don’t think so,” Edmund said. “It seems too still. Even if it were asleep you would expect some movement.”

“I’m certain it’s dead, Sire,” Rhince said. “But it gave me a nasty shock when I first saw it.”

“Well, yes, it would,” Caspian said absently. He was trying to decide what to do for the best. “Is there likely to be another dragon around? Will it have a mate?” he asked the group at large. There was much shrugging and shaking of heads.

“Don’t have much first-hand experience of dragons,” Edmund said. “I think they’re pretty solitary. It‘s probably on its own.” This accorded with what Caspian knew about dragons, which was not much. He thought for a moment. His impulse was to lead the search into the valley. If he or Edmund had happened upon this place curiosity would certainly compel them to investigate. Of course, common sense would dictate caution but Eustace was singularly lacking in common sense. It was entirely likely that he would just blunder ahead without a thought for the consequences. On the other hand, Eustace was not a brave person and would probably avoid the dragon, even when dead.

“What do you think?” he asked Edmund. “If Eustace were up here and saw the dragon would he go down for a closer look?”

Edmund shook his head. “I doubt it. I don’t think Eustace would walk knowingly into a place with a dragon in it. And it’s a hard way down, if it’s possible at all. Unless he went in another way I don’t think he’s down there.”

Caspian nodded. “All right. We need to explore the most likely possibilities first.”

They carried on along the ridge, which eventually began to turn away from the valley, sweeping round towards the sea. The going was so easy Caspian began to think they would run into Eustace at any moment. If he sought out the easiest path, he could hardly do better than this. It sloped gently downwards until it deposited them easily on the beach a mile or two from the bay they had anchored in.

The light was failing as they arrived at the foot of the hill, so Caspian decided it would be best to go back to camp and begin the search again the next day. It was almost dark when they made their weary return. Caspian’s half-formed hope that they might find Eustace had come back of his own accord was dashed. After reassuring Lucy and the others that he was unlikely to have been eaten by the dragon, and feeling more tired than he ever had in his life, Caspian settled down to get some sleep.

Sleep did not want to come, however, and so when a dark, ominous shape flew overhead a few hours later, Caspian saw it and was on his feet immediately.

“So it did have a mate,” Edmund said softly beside him.

“It would appear so,” Caspian said. Drinian had also seen it, and so had the men on watch. Carefully they woke the others and everyone gathered round to hear Caspian’s orders. They were quite simple as they really had no options. (Caspian did not consider Reepicheep’s idea of challenging it to single combat to be an option.) They would attack the creature at first light, and hope for the best.

*****

Caspian sat on a rock at the edge of the bay and watched as the dragon-that-had-been-Eustace tried for what Caspian reckoned to be the eleventh time to write his story in the sand while Lucy and Drinian looked on. If nothing else, Caspian had to admire his persistence.

He had not been quite sure what to expect when attacking a dragon, but he had certainly not expected it to back clumsily away from them into the water and try to communicate with them. He had begun to have some suspicions about the nature of the creature when he watched its interaction with Lucy, but it still came as something of a shock when the dragon finally confirmed that it was indeed Eustace.

Glad as Caspian was that Eustace was both alive and apparently much improved by his experiences, it did present them with a few problems. They could not possibly leave him here; it was out of the question. But no matter how often he turned the problem over in his mind, he did not see what else they could do. He would not fit on the ship. He could fly for long distances but could not fly alongside the ship indefinitely; he would need to rest occasionally and there was no guarantee that there would be any land for him to rest on. And even if they could come up with some way around the practicalities, there still remained the fact that he was a dragon. He must be thoroughly miserable. They had to find a way to change him back. This, he was pretty sure, was what Edmund meant when he said ‘Be careful what you wish for’. They had wanted Eustace to be a better person and now he was. Once again, Caspian couldn’t help but wonder what Aslan was playing at.

Edmund came and sat beside him and they watched as Lucy and Drinian tried in vain to understand what Eustace was trying to tell them. “Have you been struck by inspiration yet?” Edmund said.

Caspian shook his head. “You?”

“I thought I had at one point. The first time we left Narnia we returned to exactly the way we had been when we entered Narnia, right down to the clothes we were wearing. I thought maybe if we went home, he would turn back automatically.” Caspian tried to repress the anxiety that sprang up at this. He knew his friends would have to leave eventually, but he would prefer it to be later rather than sooner. But if it was the only way for Eustace to be cured, of course he would make no effort to stop them.

“How would you get home?”

“Well, that’s the flaw in my plan. I have no idea how to get home. And even if I did, there’s no guarantee that it would work. And then there would be a dragon loose in England and I dread to think what would happen then.” Caspian knew he should not feel relieved about this, but he couldn’t help it.

“How can Aslan allow this to happen? Shouldn’t he come along and do something?” Caspian said, frustration getting the better of him.

“I think we’re supposed to figure a way out of it for ourselves,” Edmund said.

“There is no way out of it,” Caspian said. He was aware that he sounded like a petulant child, but days of worry and guilt had worn away at him and it was all becoming a little too much. “This is all my fault.”

“How so?” Lucy said, startling them both. They had not seen her approach. Behind her, Eustace now appeared to be trying to mime something to Drinian, but his limbs were no more made for miming than they were for writing.

“It was so much effort to make him work, it was easier to let him just lounge around under a tree. If he’d been working he wouldn’t have been able to sneak off. And if he had, someone would have noticed. This would not have happened if I hadn’t taken the easier option.”

“We’re all guilty of that,” Edmund said.

“And if this hadn’t happened, something else would have,” Lucy said. Caspian looked at her with surprise. “Do you think this just happened randomly? Aslan’s hand, or paw, I suppose, is in this somewhere.” Caspian snorted but said nothing. “It is. And the answer will be found when the time is right. I do wish that time could be soon though. Poor Eustace must be quite miserable.” She glanced over her shoulder at Eustace, who was now lumbering towards them with a somewhat baffled looking Drinian.

“I think,” said Drinian, sounding uncertain, “he wants to take us flying.” Eustace nodded vigorously, pointing up at the sky for good measure.

“I say,” said Edmund. “That could be worth a try. Are you sure?” Eustace nodded again.

After some hesitation the four of them clambered on to his back, and several minutes were spent settling everyone into position before Eustace took a great clumsy leap, spread his wings and took off into the sky.

*****

Caspian lay down to sleep feeling less troubled than he had been. There were few things better in the world, he had decided, than flying. The first time had been uncomfortable at first, and not a little dangerous. The dragon’s back was not particularly comfortable and there was nothing to hold onto, not mention that Eustace was still a little unsteady on his wings. But once you figured out the best place to sit and just how to grip with your knees, and once Eustace worked out how to fly smoothly without jolting his passengers too much, it was wonderful.

By this point Eustace had taken everybody for a flight, though some did not care for it. Caspian, however, could not get enough. Eustace had even taken him out on his own a couple of times, and those had been the best of all. There was a feeling of solitude while knowing you weren’t really alone that Caspian had never experienced, and Eustace took more risks with a solo rider, swooping low over the trees and even diving steeply down towards the lake while Caspian clung on for dear life, his laughter snatched away by the rushing wind.

They still had no idea how to change Eustace back, or what they would do with him if they couldn’t. It was difficult to tell with such limited communication, but Caspian was sure Eustace was beginning to despair of ever being human again. They had all wracked their brains, but Edmund’s idea to take him back to England was still the best they had and it was as fraught with problems as all the others. With worries about Eustace crowding his mind, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

He woke again what seemed to be minutes later, but must have been several hours judging by the stars. He was sitting with his back against Eustace’s side, the heat from his body warming him through. Edmund and Drinian were either side of him, with Lucy beside Edmund and the crew crowding round the dragon as they did when it rained, though there had been no rain for two days. They were all fast asleep. He sat still for a couple of minutes feeling the dragon’s chest rise and fall before getting up to get a drink of water. On his return, he saw that Eustace was awake. He lifted his head and nodded to Caspian then gestured up at the sky.

“Now? You want to go flying now?” Caspian whispered. Eustace nodded. “You’ll wake the others.” Eustace shook his head, then pointed upwards again. Caspian shrugged and then scrambled up onto his back. With one smooth leap, cleaner and neater than any Eustace had managed yet, they were in the air, the beach disappearing rapidly beneath them. They climbed higher and higher until the clouds surrounded them and they could see nothing in any direction. Caspian’s damp clothes clung to him but he was perfectly warm.

Without warning, Eustace went into a near-vertical dive. Caspian yelped and clung on. The clouds were soon left behind them and the ground rushed up to meet them and the wind screamed in Caspian’s ears. He shouted at Eustace to pull up, but he couldn’t hear him and the ground came closer and closer.

Caspian closed his eyes as they hit the ground. He opened them again an instant later to find he was standing in a garden. The moonlight was almost as bright as day and he could see he was standing beside a large sunken pool with marble steps leading down into it. And on the other side of the pool… the body of a dragon, lying quite motionless.

“Eustace,” he cried, racing round the pool. But as he got closer he could see something wasn’t right. The body was strangely misshapen and somehow seemed to be lacking in the solidity and mass that had become so familiar to Caspian. When he reached it, he saw why. It was not Eustace, merely his skin. Caspian whirled round, looking frantically round for Eustace. What he saw instead made him step back in shock, before bowing his head.

“You seem surprised to see me, Caspian.”

“Well, yes, Sir. A little.”

“I believe Lucy told you I would come when the time was right.” Caspian looked up at this. It was hard to look at the Lion, but even harder to look away.

“She did, Sir. But I was concerned about Eustace and I was impatient.”

“Concerned about Eustace. Yes. So concerned that you came to believe you are so important that not only are you alone responsible for the actions of another, but that I should come and fix your mistakes.” Caspian flushed. “It is not my job to ease your conscience,” Aslan said, looking sterner than Caspian had ever seen him.

“No, Sir. I know that. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” There was a long silence, during which Caspian wished fervently that the ground would open up and swallow him, or at least that Aslan would stop looking at him like that and say something. “Tell me, Son of Adam. Do you really believe I brought Eustace into Narnia merely as a joke at your expense?”

Caspian bit his lip. “No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

Caspian couldn’t be certain, but he thought he detected a hint of a smile around Aslan’s eyes. “Well, I did wonder, Sir. He can be, or could be I suppose I should say, very trying.” Caspian looked round the garden, his anxiety about Eustace returning as he spotted the dragon skin. “Is he all right?”

“Oh, quite all right,” Aslan said, now looking and sounding positively cheerful. “I trust you understand him a little better now?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And do you understand yourself a little better also?”

Caspian considered this in some surprise. He had not really thought about it. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“Excellent,” Aslan said with a smile.

Caspian blinked and found himself lying by the fire, exactly where he had been when he went to sleep. He sat up slowly and looked around. The sun was already up, though it was still early; the air was cool and the dew still wet on the grass. Everyone was still asleep, except for Edmund and Eustace, who were nowhere to be seen. Feeling slightly groggy, as one does when one wakes suddenly from a dream, he reached for his horn and blew a sharp blast to wake the camp.

The fire for breakfast was just getting going when Edmund returned accompanied, to the surprise of everyone but Caspian, by a restored Eustace. Caspian hung back while everyone crowded round him, shaking his hand and thumping him on the back and wanting to know what had happened. When they had all retreated and Eustace had sat down by the fire, looking surprised but pleased by the welcome, Caspian went to sit beside him.

“Glad to see you back to your old self,” he said.

Eustace laughed. “Not quite my old self, I hope. He wasn’t a lot of fun to be around.” Caspian couldn’t really deny this, but didn’t want to agree with it either. Eustace laughed again. “It’s all right. I know what a beast I’ve been. And then I was literally turned into a beast. Taught me a few lessons though.”

“I think we’ve all been taught a few lessons,” Caspian said. Eustace turned to look at him in surprise.

“What did you need to learn?” he said.

“A great deal, apparently.”

“Sorry I can’t take you flying anymore.”

Caspian laughed. “That’s all right. I’ve done more flying than most people ever get to do. I can be satisfied with that.” Eustace looked as if he didn’t quite believe him, but it was the truth. He would rather have Eustace back to normal. “Did you see Aslan?” he said quietly.

Eustace looked up at him sharply. “Yes. Did Edmund tell you?”

“No. It was just a guess.” He wanted to tell Eustace about his dream, curious to know if any of the details matched up with his experience, but this was not really the time or the place.

“Yes, I saw him. He was the one who, well, un-dragoned me, as Edmund called it. I was almost more scared of him than I was of being a dragon.”

Caspian thought back to how he had wished he could just disappear as he stood before the Lion. “I know the feeling. He does have a way of making you feel like you’ve been the world’s greatest fool.”

“It’s not that difficult when you _have_ been the world’s greatest fool.”

Caspian laughed. “That may be true. I don’t think either of us is quite there yet though.” He grabbed a bow and a quiver of arrows and pulled Eustace to his feet. “Come on,” he said, motioning Edmund and Lucy to join them.

“Where are we going?” Eustace said.

“Well, since you’re no longer able to swoop down on your prey from above, you’re going to have to learn to hunt the old-fashioned way.” He thrust the weapons at Eustace, who looked at them as though they might bite him. Edmund and Lucy took hold of an arm each and, with Caspian leading the way, propelled a protesting but laughing Eustace into the forest.


End file.
